


Standing Tall

by troubleinmind



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-16 16:17:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8109112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubleinmind/pseuds/troubleinmind
Summary: LVA @ PVD Part I from the point of view of Kent's Cowlick, whom I have named Eustace... because apparently I have no self control.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Once upon a time a long long time ago, our lady Ngozi said: "FACT: my favorite part of Parse’s character design is that little cowlick that jauntily defies gravity in every and all situations. He hates it."
> 
> And then we had this update and oh my god that boy. And his HAIR. It was just out of control. And somehow my brain piped up with "what if it's trying to defend him from his enemies?" And then this happened.

He seems sad this morning. Usually he would be up by now but he’s still in bed, curled up and snuffling into the Cat’s fur. Eustace is a bit worried. He’s been tense lately, somehow both more brittle and more soft than he should be. Like he’ll bleed if he’s touched wrong. It’s not as bad as it was, but it’s certainly worse than it has been in a while. Eustace will clearly have to work a little harder for him. It’s only right.

The Cat has apparently had enough of his moping, or perhaps she’s just hungry. She yowls and bats at him, knocking Eustace sideways for a moment, and wriggles out of his grasp. He sighs and follows her off the bed, wandering into the kitchen to refill her bowl and start the coffee. Now that he’s standing, the morning falls back into its usual reassuring shape. The bathroom is next. He leans on the counter while he brushes his teeth, and even if the bags under his eyes aren’t as pronounced as they were last winter, he still looks haggard, more tired than he should and older than the cameras ever seem to show. Eustace stands up a little taller to encourage him, still chipper after the earlier misadventure with the Cat. No matter what else happens, Eustace will be there for him.

His eyes narrow, and he stares at Eustace for a moment before running a hand up and through his hair. It pushes Eustace down for a moment, but Eustace is undaunted and springs back, taller and fluffier than ever. He does that fairly often, and Eustace doesn’t need to be pet the same way that the Cat seems to, but it is nice to be appreciated. It’s going to be a long day, but Eustace will stand proud through all of it.

After breakfast (Eggs with a side of fruit loops, as if Eustace needed more hints that all is not well), it’s time for practice. Eustace doesn’t mind riding under the helmet usually, but pops free instead to ride above his visor, waving a bit in the breeze as he skates suicides. He’s so fast, one of the fastest in the league, and Eustace loves the way it feels when he’s going at top speed. It’s the best thing about hockey.

It was a good practice, but now it’s over and in the locker room there are no less than ten reporters all clustered around him, standing too close and asking stupid questions. Eustace does not trust reporters. They always make things worse. This isn’t even a game, it’s practice. Why is this necessary? Some man in the front shoves a recorder forward, and asks about the Falconers, and then about the Other Boy. It is not the first time he has had this question, but he goes tense again. All the joy from hockey has left his body and he draws his arms close and his shoulders down. He’s as sad as he was this morning and Eustace is furious. How dare they bring up the Other Boy. How dare they undo all of the progress of the morning, all of Eustace’s hard work. He’s so small in this moment, shrinking and withdrawn, even as he says something appropriate and calm. Eustace will show him though. If he can’t stand tall at this moment, Eustace will do it for him. Eustace will take over his entire head if necessary, standing tall with fluffy wings that trail all the way back past his ear. It’s a little preposterous but not uncalled for; he needs a lift and Eustace will provide it.

After they leave he sighs and runs his hand over Eustace again. Eustace tries to be extra fluffy in that moment, like the Cat if that’s possible. Maybe it will help.

On his way out of the showers, he stops in front of the mirrors. His eyes go wide and he stares at Eustace. It’s fair though, Eustace is still looking particularly impressive. The weight of the water is nothing in the face of determination and years of practice. He grips the sink in front of him and leans in, turning his head back and forth as he inspects Eustace’s wings. He tugs at one before running both hands through his hair, gripping Eustace tightly for a moment. Eustace springs back up when he drops his hand, proud and strong as ever.

**Author's Note:**

> poor Eustace. He tries so hard. And he really does just want to help.


End file.
